Dangerous Game
by Junglegirl
Summary: Bosco lands himself in hot water
1. Default Chapter

There it was again. That feeling that he was being watched. He'd had it on and off for weeks now. Like eyes boring a hole in the back of his head. He turned around, but could see no one. Same as always. He hadn't told Faith about it. He was sure if it was anything, she would have noticed it too. Women pick up on stuff like that. His imagination was playing tricks on him.  
  
Later on he leaned on the bar, sipping his beer. The bar was fairly busy for this time of night, but Bosco saw no one he knew. All of a sudden he had that feeling again. Someone was watching him. He turned around and saw he wasn't imagining it this time. Bright blue eyes stared at him. His eyes took in the rest of her. She was tall, with curves in all the right places. Dark red hair spilled over her shoulders. She smiled at him.   
He didn't normally like red heads, but what the hell, any port in a storm.  
He slid along the bar.  
"Hey buddy, another beer for me, and whatever the lady's having."  
He introduced himself. She said her name was Claire. They drank and talked for a while.  
Eventually they left the bar together.  
  
Lying in bed, Bosco looked around her apartment. He was glad when she'd suggested her place, he wouldn't have to wait for her to leave.  
He turned to her. "You know" she said, "We've met before."  
"Oh God" he thought, "She's not gonna start on about all that past life crap."  
"Uhuh" he said, trying to sound interested.  
"No, really, we met a few months ago. I'm a nurse, I stitched you up your arm."  
"Oh, yeah right." Bosco didn't remember her.  
She smiled. She knew he'd remember her.  
  
Bosco waited until she was asleep. He crept out of her bed. He grabbed his jeans, shoes and socks and pulled them on. He couldn't find his shirt. Dammit, where was his shirt? He couldn't look for it properly without waking her up. He sighed and pulled on his jacket. Oh well, he'd never really liked that shirt anyway.  
He felt a bit bad about leaving, but wasn't it better than leading the girl on, letting her think that there could be a relationship?  
  
The next day, Faith smiled at him. "late night, huh Bos?"  
"Yeah, I met some girl. Reckoned she'd met me before. A nurse, said she'd stitched me up before. God Faith, I've been sewn up that many times, am I supposed to remember everyone who did it?"  
Faith looked at Bosco. One of these days he was going to get burned.  
  
Claire rolled over in her bed. The other side of it was empty. Maurice had gone. She was surprised she hadn't heard it if he had been called to work. Policemen were so busy these days.  
She rolled out of bed. Something under the bed caught the corner of her eye. She bent down and picked it up. She pressed it to her face and inhaled.   
His shirt! He would have to come back now, it was a sign.  
She always believed in signs. 


	2. Signs

Bosco ran. His legs pumped underneath him. His heart thumped wildly in his chest. The purse-snatcher was fast, but Bosco was gaining on him. Closer, closer, suddenly he lunged forward and caught the snatcher around the waist, pulling him to the ground. The snatcher put his arm out to break his fall. The combined weight of the two men was too much for it. There was aloud snapping sound, and the snatcher screamed.  
Faith arrived just as Bosco was rolling off the man, who was still howling with pain.  
"What did you do to him Bosco?"  
Bosco looked offended. "I didn't do anything; he hurt his arm when he fell. I just helped him fall."  
"Shut up will you" He directed this last comment at the man, who was rolling on the sidewalk clutching his arm.  
"I suppose we'd better take him to hospital."  
  
She saw him come in, pushing a man in front of him. There was another cop with him. His partner she guessed. She was wearing a wedding ring. Claire was pleased by that. He was moving towards her.  
"Hi Maurice."  
He looked up at her.  
"Uh, hi, um Claire, right?"  
She looked hot in that uniform. He wondered if he had been a bit hasty in not calling her. He looked at her again. There was something a bit, well a bit unsettling about her. He couldn't quite put his finger on it.  
He pushed the man in front of him.   
"I think he broke his arm"  
"Oh, right. I'll get a doctor to take a look at him."  
She led the man away, looking back over her shoulder at Bosco.  
Faith looked at him. She enjoyed seeing him squirm.  
"Don't start" he said to her.  
"I wouldn't even know where to begin." She laughed and moved off to get a coffee. God knows how long they'd be waiting.  
  
Claire led the purse snatcher back out into the waiting room, handing him over to Faith. She seems nice, she thought. They'd be good friends.  
Bosco grabbed the man's good arm. "Come on, let's get out of here."  
"See you later Bosco."  
She watched him stride away. Policemen were so busy these days.  
Still it was a sign.  
  
Later that night, at home, Claire turned on the radio. With or Without You by U2 came on. Another sign. Claire always believed in signs. They were all around us, you just had to look for them. A bird on the window ledge, a certain number bus, a song on the radio. They were all signs. And all the signs pointed to one thing. 


	3. The call

"Hey Bosco!" The desk sergeant called to him. "Yo, Boscorelli, telephone."  
Bosco turned around. He had just been leaving for the night. He was tired, and just wanted to get home to bed. He sighed and took the telephone.   
"Thanks sarge."  
"Maurice Boscorelli."  
Claire's voice came tearfully down the line.  
"Oh, Maurice, it's Claire, thank God I found you."  
She sounded panicked.  
  
10 minutes later Bosco pulled his car up to the kerb outside her apartment.  
She'd been hysterical. Something about an ex boyfriend showing up and threatening her.  
He wasn't sure why he'd said he'd go. Well, he was a cop after all, it was his job. And secondly, he didn't always think with his brain.  
  
She opened the door to her apartment. A chair was tipped over on the floor.  
Her hair was dishevelled, wild around her face, a firey tangle of red.  
Her blue eyes shone wildly.  
"Thank God you're here. He came to visit, he went nuts," she broke down in tears, throwing herself in Bosco's arms. His back straightened. He liked his personal space. Unless he invited someone into his space, he liked them to keep their distance. Throwback from childhood he guessed.  
He held her at arms length. "Is he gone?"  
She nodded. tears still rolling down her face, leaving black mascara tracks down her cheeks.  
"Ok then, I'll leave you to it. You might want to consider taking a restraining order out against your ex though."  
"Please don't leave me. I'm so scared!" "What if he comes back?"  
Bosco looked at his watch. He supposed 10 minutes wouldn't hurt.  
  
He accepted the beer she poured for him.  
What the hell, if he had to be here, he might as well make the most of it.  
Funny, he hadn't realised how tired he was when he left work.  
He could hardly keep his eyes open now.  
It wouldn't hurt just to close his eyes for a minute.  
  
She smiled as she watched his eyes close.  
All the signs had come together. 


	4. Awake

Bosco woke to a load roaring noise and a weight on his chest. He opened one groggy eye, only to find bright green ones staring back. A large marmalade cat was sitting on his chest. Which was fine, except he didn't own a cat. He tried to sit up, but pain ripped through his arms, which were cuffed to the head of the bed. The cat leapt off his chest, annoyed at being disturbed.  
"What the fuck?"  
Giggling came from the chair beside the bed. "You police aren't the only ones with handcuffs, you know." She was pleased he was awake at last.  
"I didn't realise they were issuing them to nurses these days." He was still woozy, and his head hurt. He was trying to figure out how he ended up handcuffed to this chick's bed.  
More giggling from beside the bed.  
"They don't issue them silly, they're for my own, um, personal use."  
He was still trying to figure out how he got there. It got worse. He was naked. He was sure he'd have remembered if something had happened.  
He remembered having a drink. Maybe he'd had more than he thought. It had happened before, but normally he could remember everything in the morning. "Think Bosco, think."  
Still he drew a blank. He'd have to bluff his way out of this. Ok, here goes.  
"Well thanks, um, Claire for the great night, but I've really got to be getting to work now."  
Nothing.  
"Come on Claire, stop mucking about."  
Still nothing.  
"I have to go, come on, just get the keys and unlock me."  
He was starting to panic now. This was quite working out.  
Calm blue eyes met his.  
"Don't be silly darling, you're not going anywhere. We hardly ever saw each other, you need a rest. Policemen are so busy these days."  
Bosco struggled against the handcuffs. "Come on you fucking bitch, let me go. This isn't funny,"  
He knew as he was saying it that she wouldn't let him go. She was crazy. He could see it in her eyes.   
She slipped a hand into her pocket and pulled out a hypodermic, and a small vial of clear liquid. "I have to go to work now," she said as she stood up. "This will help you rest."  
She pushed the needle into the vial and pulled back on the syringe.  
Bosco struggled, his arms screaming with pain, and the cuffs beginning to cut into his wrists. He didn't care. He hated needles and God knows what she had just filled this one with.  
He tried to kick his legs up, but she sat on them.  
"Come on darling, don't be a baby. I f you struggle you'll only make it worse. You don't want to make it worse, do you sweetie?"  
He wanted to ask what could be worse than this, but she leant back on his legs to stop his kicking, pulled the sheet up and pressed the hypodermic into his thigh.  
She stood up, pushed the sheet back down and bent over and kissed him full on the mouth.  
"There now, that should keep you until I get back."  
"Be good now." She giggled and shut the door behind her.  
  
Bosco woke to darkness. His arms ached, and he was sure his wrists had been bleeding.  
He was groggy, but he knew he had to find away out of here. Claire was crazy, and she was a nurse with access to a huge array of drugs. God knows what would happen if he didn't get out of here. He needed to think rationally. What would he do if it was someone else being held hostage? How would he negotiate their way out? Who was he kidding, Faith would negotiate, that was her style. He would go in with all guns blazing.  
His gun! It was tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket. He'd taken it off and folded it over a chair last night. Hopefully she hadn't moved it. His gun would still be there, hidden.  
Now he just had to get to it. 


	5. gun

"Gun, gun, gun, gun..." The thought kept echoing around and around in Bosco's head.  
  
Light exploded in Bosco's eyes.  
She was home.  
"Hey honey how was your day?" He asked, hoping that he sounded genuine.  
"Fine, thanks, sweetie," she answered. Men never wanted to hear what really happened in your day. They didn't want to know the Mr Jones had thrown up on you or that Mr Smith needed an enema. Men wanted Little Suzy Sunshine, not some whiny bitch.  
"How are you?" She reached out and touched his leg. Inside, Bosco recoiled, but he played it cool. He couldn't spoil the plan now.  
"Gun, gun, gun.." The chant kept snaking through his head. He just had to keep his cool and get to his jacket.  
"Fine thanks. But, um, I really need to go to the bathroom."  
"Oh, of course, you poor thing!"  
Bosco held his breath and prayed to God that she hadn't bought a catheter home with her.  
God must have been listening, because she reached into her pocket and pulled out a small silver key. She then unlocked his handcuffs.  
Bosco gingerly lowered his arms.  
He rubbed his wrists. They were starting to chafe, but he couldn't feel it.  
Soon, the feeling would return to his arm, and pain would come flooding with it.  
He stood and found his boxers, and put them on.  
He stood there looking dazed.  
"Um, where exactly is your bathroom?" He asked. By now he really did need to go.  
She laughed. "Come on silly, I'll show you."  
She showed him to the bathroom.  
  
When he had finished, he quietly shut the door behind him and padded into the living room. He contemplated trying the door, but it was locked and he knew he wasn't getting out of there without a key.  
"Gun, gun, gun..." If he could just get to his gun, he could force her to unlock the door for him and be gone.  
His jacket was still there, hanging over the chair where he had left it the night before.  
He tiptoed to his jacket, and picked it up. He rifled through his pockets.  
  
"Looking for this?"  
Her voice behind him startled him.  
He turned to see her holding his gun.  
"You know," She said, "this could end just like Romeo and Juliet."  
He'd never read Romeo and Juliet, but he had the feeling that it didn't end with the hero getting his clothes back and going home.  
In fact he had the feeling that it didn't end well at all. 


End file.
